


Stable Duties

by i_know_its_0ver



Category: Merlin - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-16
Updated: 2011-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:57:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_know_its_0ver/pseuds/i_know_its_0ver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur sneak attacks Merlin in the stables for a roll in the hay (...euphemistically)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stable Duties

**Author's Note:**

> written as a birthday present for lj user eloquent_toast. she requested edging and frot. I aim to please. PURE PWP.

The afternoon sunshine was pleasant but mild, slanting in thin beams through the narrow windows of the royal stables. Merlin hummed softly to himself as he swept up stray mud and hay, pausing now and then to pat the horses who nuzzled him with curious noses, searching for hidden treats.

Merlin’s grousing about stable duty was mostly a matter of principle; it really wasn’t supposed to be within the purview of his duties, but he didn’t mind it all that much. The other boys who worked there were friendly, and usually gave Merlin the simple chores like sweeping up (mostly to keep him out of the way, he suspected). There, among the familiar smells of hay and horses, and surrounded by other boys of his status, Merlin felt almost normal for a change.

He let his mind slip into mundane thoughts, thinking about what he might sneak from the kitchens for dinner that night as he rounded a corner and bumped his forehead smack into a hard, metal wall.

“ _Mer_ lin,” the wall huffed, and Merlin shook his head, glancing up to find Arthur frowning at him. It was unusual for Arthur to venture into the stables. He usually sent a servant to fetch his horse (or his manservant). Merlin immediately worried that something might be wrong; some new beast threatening the kingdom, perhaps, or another sorcerer within the city. Arthur’s body was tense, Merlin could see it in the way he held himself, even beneath the layers of armor. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Arthur, what’s wrong? Should I get Gaius? Or the knights?” Merlin asked, quickly setting his broom aside and preparing to spring into action.

But instead of answering, Arthur placed his gloved hands on each of Merlin’s shoulders and shoved him backwards, into the empty stall behind them.

“Wha--” Merlin croaked in surprise, but before he could get a question out Arthur’s lips were covering his in a hungry kiss. It took Merlin a moment to process what was happening, his body still tensed for action. But Arthur’s lips were warm and just a bit rough against his own, chapped from hours of training out in the sun. Merlin slowly forgot about his panic and allowed himself to melt against Arthur, the sun-warmed metal hot against him in the cool shade of the stable.

Arthur pulled back to drag in a ragged breath, his eyes already half lidded. Some of the tension had drained from his shoulders, but his jaw was still set in stubborn determination. Maybe there was no threat to the kingdom, but Arthur was clearly on a mission. One that required Merlin’s assistance.

Arthur leaned in again, frantically licking his way into Merlin’s mouth, caressing and exploring and nipping at his lips. As usual, Merlin felt himself being swept away in Arthur’s inexorable frenzy, when he heard a dull murmur of voices from one of the adjacent corridors. He had almost forgotten that they were in the stables, in the middle of the afternoon, within clear view of anyone who might happen to walk by.

“Arthur,” Merlin sighed, pulling away minutely to free his lips. “Not here, let’s go inside.” The bed would be much more comfortable anyway, and they could free Arthur from his layers of heavy armor. But before he could make these very sensible points, Arthur was kissing him again, insistent and silently persuasive.

“No, can’t wait-- now,” Arthur groaned, pulling Merlin closer against his armor-clad chest and running his hands over his back. The desire in his husky tone sent a shiver all the way to Merlin’s toes, and suddenly he couldn’t find the will to resist. It was still a spectacularly bad idea, but when Arthur sounded like that Merlin thought maybe he had magic in him too.

Arthur’s hands roamed lower, splaying over Merlin’s sides and down towards the belted waistband of his trousers. Insistent fingers pulled up the hem of his tunic, finally brushing against bare skin. Merlin shivered at the brush of the soft leather gloves; it made the familiar touch feel different from usual, almost alien, and the thought sent a tremor of perverse excitement through his limbs.

Arthur’s fingers worked the belt loose and shoved the rough wool trousers down Merlin’s slim hips, freeing his already half-hard cock. The trousers slid down to his thighs and pooled around his knees, forgotten.

Merlin moved to offer Arthur the same assistance, but it was difficult through the layers of leather and chain mail. It wasn’t made any easier by Arthur’s persistent nibbling at Merlin’s neck, tugging his neckerchief out of the way so he could skin his teeth over the sensitive adams apple and the hollow dip at the base of his throat. Merlin tried to stifle a needy moan, but he could feel Arthur smirking against his skin, apparently quite pleased with himself. Maybe he was trying to get them caught, the stupid prat, or maybe he was just trying to test Merlin’s control. Merlin didn’t have much thought to spare for the demented workings of Arthur’s mind as his tongue lapped at the curve of Merlin’s jaw and up to nibble on his ear.

Merlin lifted the chain mail with one hand, using Arthur’s belt to tuck the long front flap out of the way, before fumbling with the laces of his leather breeches. He was frustrated and almost desperate enough to resort to magicking them open, but they finally came loose with a sharp tug. Before he could even push them away Arthur’s straining arousal was pushing into his palm, desperately seeking contact.

Merlin pulled his hand away, eliciting a frustrated groan from Arthur, accompanied by a punishing nip at his shoulder. But before Arthur could start to complain, Merlin pulled him close, thrusting his hips forward so that they were flush against each other, straining cocks rubbing alongside one another. Merlin had planned this, but he wasn’t prepared for just how amazing it felt, silky skin and blazing heat rubbing together. He let his head fall back with a groan, thumping against the hard wall behind them.

“Careful,” Arthur chuckled breathlessly, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of Merlin’s head and pull it forward to rest against Arthur’s shoulder. The metal armor had cooled in the shade of the stable, and it felt refreshing against Merlin’s heated skin, grounding him against the onslaught of sensation.

Arthur held Merlin’s hips in a bruising grip, gloved thumbs brushing small circles over the sharp angles as he moved their bodies together, sliding against each other. Merlin stifled another moan against Arthur’s neck, letting his hot breath ghost over his sensitive nape and enjoying the way Arthur shivered in response.

Arthur was grunting softly with each thrust of his hips, quickly speeding up to a near frenzied pace. Merlin reached one hand down to help align their shafts, holding them both in one fist as best he could, still loose enough for Arthur to thrust up into his hold. They both let out incautious groans as the new alignment slid the sensitive heads against each other, smearing them both in slick fluid.

Merlin was sure it would be over soon, and he tightened his grip, adding pressure to Arthur’s increasing pace. He was close, so close, almost there—

“Arthur? Are you in here?” a familiar voice called and both boys froze like spooked deer. Merlin could have screamed with the frustration and pain of being so close and suddenly denied, and the grimace on Arthur’s face promised that someone would pay for this.

“Arthur?” Leon called again, his heavy footsteps moving down the stable corridor in their direction. Merlin instinctively slouched lower, pulling Arthur with him. The stall walls were high, but the doors were lower, to allow the horses to lean out. If Leon were to pass directly by there was no way he could miss them.

Arthur pulled Merlin closer, perhaps meaning to shield him from view, but it only brought their aching cocks into contact again, and Merlin had to bite his lip against a startled cry. Arthur also looked momentarily stunned, but it was quickly replaced by a feral grin. Merlin didn’t have time to think about what that look meant before he felt Arthur’s fingers close around him. The cool leather felt strange against his aching length, so unfamiliar even though it was Arthur’s hand, the same hand which had touched him so many times before.

Merlin looked at Arthur with pleading eyes as the footsteps grew closer, only a few yards away now. There was no time to disguise what they had been doing, but if they moved now they could at least cover themselves before they were discovered. It would be a small mercy.

“Arthur? Merlin?” Leon called, but Arthur only sped up his hand, watching Merlin with a heated gaze as his fingers ran over his cock, alternately gripping him in a tight fist and skimming over his length with feather-light fingertips. The variation was driving Merlin mad, not quite enough but way too much at the same time.

The footsteps were only a few feet away now. If Leon were to take one or two steps closer he would see everything that Merlin had been so cautious to hide for months. Arthur leaned in to Merlin’s ear.

“Come for me, Merlin,” he whispered in that wicked voice that worked like a spell. And Merlin obeyed, his body convulsing and spilling over Arthur’s hand as Arthur swallowed his cries in a deep kiss. Somewhere in the back of his mind Merlin could hear Leon’s footsteps retreating back in the direction he had come, but at the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care if the damn king himself happened to walk by. His body felt on fire, like the surge of magic that coursed through his veins when he worked a powerful spell, rushing through him and draining him just as quickly, until he could do nothing but pant and shiver and wait for the world to come back into focus.

Arthur was whispering encouragements and endearments in his ear, and if Merlin could have concentrated he would have catalogued them all and stored them away for later. But he could barely think past the feeling of Arthur thrusting against the curve of his hip, desperately seeking his own completion. Merlin was about to reach down to aid him, but Arthur was already coming with a muffled cry, his seed spilling over Merlin’s hip and slowly dripping down his thigh, smeared under Arthur’s grasping fingers. Arthur panted, propping himself against Merlin while he regained his bearings.

Arthur finally pulled himself up to give Merlin a soft kiss, a little off-center and uncharacteristically clumsy. Merlin would tease Camelot’s greatest warrior about his aim, if only he could find his words. As it was he could only grin like a fool and wait for his breathing to calm into some semblance of normal.

Arthur straightened himself, dazedly putting his clothing and armor back in order. He was sweaty and flushed, though one one else would likely attribute it to anything but a strenuous training session. The thought made Merlin smile with secret satisfaction.

Merlin would probably not be so lucky, however, what with the bruises he was certain Arthur had left on his neck. He pulled his neckerchief tighter, hoping to hide at least some of them from Gaius’s disapproving frown. He was straightening his tunic and brushing himself off when Arthur held a pair of gloves before his nose.

“I think you will have to clean these along with the rest of my armor tonight,” Arthur said, smug amusement clear in his voice. Merlin took the soiled gloves, blushing slightly. He would probably never be able to look at them again without thinking about the feel of them against his skin. It was just one more thing in the long list of maddening distractions that was Arthur Pendragon, a man who seemed designed to leave Merlin flustered and off-kilter.

“Yes, sire,” Merlin replied, rolling his eyes to let Arthur know just what he thought of his _orders_.

Arthur smiled, smug and satisfied and back to his usual prattish self. “Well, Merlin,” he said, turning to leave, “enough shirking. There is work to be done, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Merlin would have thrown his broom after him if it weren’t for the soft smile he glimpsed as Arthur turned away.


End file.
